Once in a Lifetime Peace
by KissMeUnderTheStars
Summary: RL x SB. Oneshot. Remus tells us just what Sirius gives him other than morning breath and comfy robes.


**Disclaimer**;; I do not own these characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling

**Warnings**;; A bit of language, a dash of smut and boys kissing

* * *

For once in my life, I had found peace. Complete warm and safe peace. We've all been there at least once; the very lucky have had it twice. It's that complete, once-in-a-lifetime sort of peace that you can keep as long as the source is still there. Just one source, whether it's a hobby, a food, a novel or a person, is what gives us that peace and we must cling to it as fiercely as possible or it will slip away.

I had found mine and had dug into it tooth and claw.

He was currently dead asleep, one arm thrown over his face as if trying to protect his eyes from the sunlight that streamed in from the window over the bed. His shaggy black hair (too long for his own good) spilled over the pillow, utterly tousled and seriously in need of a brush. I watched him from where I stood at the end of the bed, clutching his robe around me. His scent clung to the black silky fabric like cologne. He stirred, arm slipping from his face as he looked at me.

"Morning," he murmured, voice rough with sleep. I couldn't help but smile at him, crawl onto the bed and join him in his warmth. Harsh, angular bodies slid against one another, bones jutting into him, me. It created bruising when he topped, more so when I did. It was the only drawback I could think of. Our hard angles were not made for one another. We were supposed to be matched with soft flesh and gentle curves. Somehow, the two of us had gotten it wrong.

"Like my robe?" he mumbled, pulling me close to him and hitching a leg over my hip.

"Mmhm. It's very nice," I pressed my face into his neck, slowly pressing my lips to his throat. He sighed, warm morning breath slipping over me. I wrinkled my nose.

"Ew," I jerked back, a half-smirk upon my face.

"What?"

"Go brush your teeth."

He laughed but slid out of bed anyways, obviously forgetting he wore nothing at all. Or maybe he didn't forget and walked to the bathroom nude just to bother me. I felt the blush burn in my face before I could stop it but he was gone before he noticed.

I wasn't sure as to how we had gotten here. Well, I knew how we had ended up his apartment (he didn't seem to like mine too much) and in bed but not quite how we had gotten here in our relationship. Somehow we'd managed to slide from best mates to drunken one night stands to…I didn't have a word. Lovers? Mates? Boyfriends? I didn't know.

"Do I smell better now?" he startled me, face suddenly in mine, breathing heavily.

"You always smell good," I blurted before I was able to stop myself. He smirked, realizing I had given him something that had once been just mine. I hated it when I did that. He adored it.

He clambered on top of me, his long body pressing against the line of my own flesh that was exposed by the robe. He rubbed his stubble line jaw against mine, scratching my skin. I hated that he did that but it, in a bit of a sick way, made me writhe underneath him. Especially when he slid further down, scraping against my neck, down my chest. He tugged the robe to the side, exposing my chest further. His jaw ground across my nipple and his tongue followed, making me jump.

"Problem?" he chuckled, nudging the other side of the robe open with his face. I couldn't help but laugh as his hands trailed down my ribs, ghosting over the skin.

"Stop…stop…"

He grinned like a cat, tickling me further, making me laugh harder as his fingers found every single ticklish spot that he knew of and then some.

"Aw, poor baby's a bit ticklish," he stopped, pulling himself to lie directly on top of me and hovered over my face. He propped himself up in a something like half of a push-up, hair spilling forward over his face to touch mine.

I giggled; his knees were digging into my side just where it made me laugh, "Yes…I am very ticklish and you know it."

"Well, then," he had switched gears; I could hear it in his voice. I looked up at him and he gave that smirk that made women swoon in bars and the girls back at school sigh with desire. I nearly came. "Perhaps I should touch you differently and you'll quit laughing." I squirmed, despite practically knowing what to expect from him. His head dropped just enough to brush his lips against mine, tongue flitting out to just brush my upper lip. He kissed me lightly, catching my wrists in one hand suddenly and straddling me so that I couldn't move at all. The robe had completely spilled open and I could feel every single inch of him that touched at me. My senses were screaming with need and he was leaving me behind. I could feel his own arousal pressed hard and hot against my stomach.

"Please," I moaned, attempting to raise my head and steal a kiss from him but he moved too far away, still giving that sinful smirk.

"Please what?" His breath was warm and fresh on my face and I just wanted to…I didn't even know…rape his mouth.

"Kiss me," I strained against his hold on my wrists trying to ensnare him in my arms and drag him down.

"Um…no, I don't think so," he sounded like a small child, teasing the dog with a bit of meat.

"I will bite you," I growled, baring my teeth slightly although there wasn't a hint of anger.

"Ooo, I hope so," he moved his hips backwards slightly, arse just brushing my own need, making me thrust upwards and causing him to chuckle. I hated it when he did this yet, I suppose, I yearned for it daily. The loss of control was mind blowing and somehow he managed to make it a desire of mine, not a loathing thing. Yes, I still hated losing it but it was like medicine. I hated it yet craved it to make me feel better.

He brought his lips against mine again, kissing me slowly, ignoring my hunger that surely showed to him in my kiss. A moan spilled from my mouth as he sucked on my lower lip before moving downwards and along my jaw. He was making me give in, which was pointless. I had always been his, always willing to go along with whatever he wanted, always, always, always his. There had never been a need for him to tease and taunt me, never the need for him to feel like he should dominate me. I suppose it went back to the canine traits that ran deep within us. My werewolf. His dog. I was a submissive, my werewolf too. He was all alpha, both forms of course. I couldn't see him as the other, as a meek and master searching dog.

Teeth scraped the shell of my ear, clinking against the earring he had begged me to get two years ago. Warm breath curled against the flesh there, causing me to squirm again. He was very good at making me do such a thing.

"I think you want something," the words fell from his mouth like feathers, caressing my cheek as he raised his head to look properly at me, "Do you?" I bit my lip at his sudden grinding and was sure that I looked and was acting more like one of those girls he fucked back in school rather than the masculine werewolf I claimed to be. Sometimes being gay just did that to you.

Sometimes he just did that to me.

His teeth fell to my throat and I hissed out a strangled yes, chest rising to press against him. He chuckled kissed my face gently. My eyes fell shut, enjoying the sensations as they coursed through me. I felt the bed shift and he slid off of me. I caught a glimpse of him sauntering down the hall.

"Well, are you coming?"

His singsong voice called me, beckoned me and I felt the wolf in me stir. I followed, robe still trailing from my body, silky fabric sliding over me. The living room was empty and so was the spare bedroom. I peeked into the kitchen only to be captured and slung over his shoulders and bent over the kitchen table. He leaned against my back, grinding softly through the fabric, making me moan as he kissed my cheek.

"You should wear my things more often."


End file.
